


This city never sleeps, remember?

by tea_and_lots_of_books



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, Reddie - Fandom
Genre: AU, Actor-Comedian Richie Tozier, Adult Eddie Kaspbrak, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Comedian Richie Tozier, Dubious Consent, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Fix-It, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Minor Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier Flirts, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, alcoholic eddie kaspbrack, eddie can't handle his feelings, eddie is confused, fuck pennywise we don't need that asshole, no revisions we die like men, richie is hosting snl, sex but it's not reddie in this chapter and it's creepy not hot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29663619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_and_lots_of_books/pseuds/tea_and_lots_of_books
Summary: It had started as a fuck you to his mom. Everything had started as a fuck you to his mom, hadn’t it? He was just sick of the asthma; the fake inhaler that his fingers itched for every time a ripple of anxiety crossed his mind. If he needed to suck on something, it would be something real. Something that made his lungs burn deeply and his head feel like a TV screen without a signal, buzzing  loudly with nothing to say. And if they killed him, they killed him. There wasn’t anyone left to worry about precious Eddie and his precious lungs, the ones that couldn’t take a wiff of second hand smoke without spasming. Eddiebear was long gone. He could chain-smoke the night away, no looming Mrs. K in sight.OR-Eddie is a mess, failing medical school going out all night, and hooking up with strangers. He hates himself and can't understand how he can keep going. But then, by chance, he meets the shameless comedian Richie Tozier and for the first time since childhood, he's almost happy again.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

Stan was a light sleeper, and that meant that as quiet as Eddie tried to be when he crept out of the apartment they split the rent for, Stan woke up. And that, in turn, woke Bill up, who had a habit of cuddling Stan within an inch of his life while they slept next to each other. 

“Eddie again?” Bill asked, rubbing his eyes as they adjusted to the multicolor lights drifting in through the window from the city twenty stories below them. His soft chestnut hair was standing up on odd angles and Stan couldn’t help but crack a half smile as his boyfriend blinked up at him.  
“Yeah,” Stan said. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine,” Bill said with a sigh, leaning in closer. “We all get restless sometimes.” He had to be the most patient man this side of the Hudson. It had started as a short time thing. Stan and Eddie – bachelors in the big city! But bachelor adventures usually didn’t involve two traumatized nineteen-year-olds quizzing each other on vocab terms late into the night. Pre-med Eddie and future omothologist (aka Bird Nerd™) Stan spent almost all their time studying their freshman year, and that was when Bill had started coming around. Stan remembered his first date with Bill, a shockingly cool creative writing major, at the coffee shop on 38th street. Stan had nursed his coffee for as long as possible and when he finally had to throw it away, Bill had grabbed his hand and murmured didn’t you say your place was right around here? And poor Stan had needed to squeak out that he had a roommate at his place, and Bill said they would just have to be quiet (which they were not). Thus began the acquaintance of Bill and Eddie, who miraculously seemed to like each other. Eddie had learned a bit of Greek in his medical studies and Bill learned it so he could read the epics in their original language which was perhaps the most attractive sentence Stan had ever heard. What can he say? He’s a sucker for a guy with intellect. They got along pretty well, Eddie and Bill, considering that Bill was now sleeping over most nights, staying for dinner, and propping his doc martens up on the coffee table while he read huge Vonnegut on the couch, spontaneously reading out long passages to Stan, which drove Eddie crazy in more than one way. They were both being good sports about it considering how many coasters Eddie offered Bill for his Chai every time he came over, and how late into the night Bill banged prose out on his typewriter. Not that Eddie was sleeping anyway.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Stan whispered, breaking out of his thoughts. “I mean, where does he go? It’s so late, nothing’s open.” 

“Probably just walks around,” Bill said, winding his fingers through Stan’s curly hair. “This city never sleeps, remember?”

“I remember,” Stan said with a lazy smile, kissing Bill lightly, the warmth of the sleep they had been pulled from and would soon return to making their lips feel soft against each other; radiating the happiness of domestic bliss. Nothing would ever make Stan happier than waking up with Bill’s arms tight around his waist, and nothing would ever make Bill feel safer than the soft rhythm of Stan’s breath against his skin. The sounds of New York City comforted them too; music and laughter and the blur of accented voices all speaking over each other all at once felt like breath going in and out of the very lungs of the city. 

“We can ask him in the morning,” Bill said against Stan’s lips, shifting them closer together under the blankets. Stan moaned softly against the soft smell of Bill’s hair, his eyes fluttering shut as they both settle into the comfortable buzz of city sounds drifting through the open window. 

Twenty stories below the two lovers who had already drifted back off into sleep, Eddie Kaspbrack took a deep drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out in front of him, watching it dissipate out into the air as his head buzzed faintly. It had started as a fuck you to his mom. Everything had started as a fuck you to his mom, hadn’t it? He remembered being fourteen and coughing violently out his window, the barely smoked cigarette dropping out of his shaking hand and down into his mother’s precious hydrangea bushes. The next morning he had needed to sneak out and find the soggy thing before she did. He was just sick of the asthma; the fake inhaler that his fingers itched for every time a ripple of anxiety crossed his mind. If he needed to suck on something it wouldn’t be the fake gas of a placebo aspirator, it would be something real. Something that made his lungs burn deeply and his head feel like a TV screen without a signal, buzzing loudly with nothing to say. And if they killed him, they killed him. There wasn’t anyone left to worry about precious Eddie and his precious lungs, the ones that couldn’t take a wiff of second hand smoke without spasming. He chuckled to himself at how easy it was now to take deep drags of the things now; Eddiebear was long gone. He could chain-smoke the night away, no looming Mrs. K in sight. 

Things had gotten better since he left home, but he still wasn’t perfect and he liked that about himself because it meant he was a real person. His lungs still hurt when he ran too far or for too long. He still reached into his pocket for the ghost of his inhaler once and awhile. But he wasn’t that little kid anymore; scared of everything, most of all himself.  
He dropped the cigarette when it was down to the filter and crushed it under the toe of his shoe. 

‘Where to now?’ he asked himself, out loud. There weren’t too many places he went. He didn’t have a Bill, like Stan did, as much as he fucking wished he did. He couldn’t never do that, though. Coffee dates and couch cuddles with another man. Thinking about it too much made his chest hurt. He was scared of it, deathly afraid. But he figured maybe some fears don’t need to be overcome. 

His feet started moving, pointing him downtown before he considers it too much. Oh, he thought, it’s going to be that kind of night. Not a bar night, not a pill night, not even a crying over the bathroom sink with a bloody razor in his hand kind of nights. These nights are the worst, or the best, he doesn’t know. He just knows that every so often, he needs it to happen. Like bloodletting. It’ll be over in two hours and then he can take a scalding shower and get it all off of himself and he knows he’ll feel better.

His eyes trailed along the sidewalk as his feet walked the familiar path. Cigarette butts and wrappers litter the streets; normal, daytime Eddie would’ve picked them up. He couldn’t bring himself to care, though. Fuck, he needed a drink. Or a pill. A real pill that’ll go straight to his head. He raised his finger to buzz at the door. Someone peaked out at him.

‘I know Danny,’ he said. The door swung open.

The stairs were illuminated with red LEDs, and there were some tealights burning softly on the sides of some steps. It occurred to Eddie how easy it would be for one of them to tip onto the carpet and knock everyone in there right off the board. It occurred to him that he didn’t care at all. In fact, it would probably be a pretty painless death; smoke inhalation would get to him before the fire did.

He walked down them, his hand ghosting over the handrail as he did. The whole place smelled like pot and licorice. At the bottom of the staircase, the main room became visible. There looked to be about forty other people in there. A few guys were sitting at the bar but most of them were milling around the crowd, chatting and laughing, and even dancing to the music playing in the background, Body Movin’ by The Beastie Boys. Eddie remembered this song playing at his senior prom while he danced joylessly with Stacey Larkin who was actually a real catch if you cared about what girls looked like. Some songs, Eddie thought, just follow you around all your life. He made a beeline for the bar.

‘Vodka,’ he said, catching the bar tender’s attention immediately. Maybe something about him just screamed anesthetize me! Maybe everything about him screamed that. He threw the shot back, smiling, for the first time that day, at the bitter liquid that tasted like antiseptic and relief. ‘Couple more, if you don’t mind,’ he said, catching the bartender’s eye. He tossed them back and stared at the empty glasses for a second. It was amazing how fast vodka went to your brain; it was brilliant. He started to feel the buzzing, the lightness, and he smiled again. The knot of pain and anxiety that always sat in his chest, right below his sternum, loosened, and he took a good deep breath, one that touched the bottom of his lungs and filled him up.  
Someone touched his shoulder and he turned to look.

‘Hi there, tiny,’ the man said. He was tall with light hair and square shoulders. His hands looked bigger than dinner plates. Eddie shivered under his touch. 

‘Hey,’ Eddie said, feeling the man eye him up and down. He knew this stranger was already imagining what he would look like naked. What he would feel like. What kind of sounds he would make in bed. It made Eddie want to crawl into himself and hide. But it also made his stomach tighten, in the best way.

‘You’re pretty,’ the man said, running his hand, feather light, down Eddie’s arm until it dropped off. Already, Eddie wanted to be touched more. He bit his lip, trying to smile at the man.

‘Thanks,’ he said, licking his lips reflexively. ‘You’re big. I mean… you’ve got big hands.’

He knew how to make men like this want him. Seem stupid, eager, inexperienced. Touch them, do what they say, beg them for it when they’re hooked. Let them use you, let them put their hands wherever they want, let them hit you if they’re into that, they’ll fuck you when they’re done. Do it, even if it hurts, even if you cry, even if you want more than anything to just go lay down in bed and pull the blankets up over your head, because this is what you wanted. This is what it’s like to want men, his brain tells him. It’s painful, and it’s dirty, and it’s hard, because it’s wrong.  
The tall man ran his hands through Eddie’s hair, and Eddie looked up at him, still on the bar stool, level with the growing bulge in the man’s pants.

‘I’m Eddie,’ he said.

“Eddie,’ he repeated, smirking, ‘I’m Tony.’

‘Tony.’ 

They both abandoned the conversation after a second when Tony gave Eddie’s hair a sharp tug and he exhaled a barely suppressed moan. Then it’s a bout of kissing, Tony’s stubble rubbing Eddie’s cheeks raw, and then Tony pulled away, grabbing Eddie’s arm hard and pulling him through the crowd of people smelling of booze and smoke until the door slammed shut on one of the private rooms in the back.

‘Are you going to pay for this?’ Eddie asked breathlessly.

The guy looks at him strangely. ‘This one’s mine. I rent it.’

‘Oh,’ Eddie says, nodding, falling back into the mood they’d created at the bar.

‘Take your clothes off,’ Tony instructed, working his belt out of its loops. Eddie’s hands went to his tee-shirt, pulling it over his head. Then he started on his jeans, unzipping them and stepping out of them. His white briefs were too tight but he left them on, looking at Tony for more instructions. He regrated it as Tony stepped towards him, one hand closing around Eddie’s throat. It wasn’t tight enough to restrict his breathing but it still sent a rush of adrenaline through Eddie’s stomach.

‘I told you,’ Tony said, pushing Eddie backwards by the throat until he fell onto the bed, ‘to take off your fucking clothes, you little slut.’

‘Sorry,’ Eddie breathed, reaching down to kick his briefs off. Tony removed his hand from Eddie’s throat, spitting on it and moving to stroke Eddie’s cock, slowly at first. Eddie gasped from the sudden stimulation. Tony worked him until he was fully hard, giving choked little moans every few strokes. Then, Tony stopped.

‘Such a little slut,’ he murmured. ‘You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?’

Eddie nodded, ‘Yes.’

‘Yes what?’

Eddie hummed in understanding, ‘Yes, daddy.’

Tony smiled at him, something wicked glinting in his eye. Eddie heard him rummaging in the bedside table for a condom. 

'Open your mouth,' Tony said from behind Eddie. Eddie did as he was told, watching Tony roll the condom on and kneel over Eddie. Eddie whimpered as Tony's cock passed through his lips, sinking deep into his mouth. He didn't gag, but closed his lips around it, flicking his tongue. Tony grabbed his hair and started fucking his mouth, hard. He cried out, though it didn't feel bad. He could feel Tony's balls hitting his chin. 

After a second, rough hands and flipped Eddie over onto his stomach. He pressed up onto his hands and knees and heard Tony chuckle. ‘So eager. Little whore.’

‘Yes, daddy,’ Eddie breathed again, and felt Tony’s fingers pushing into him. He gasped at the sudden stretch. They’re huge, after all, and it hurts, but he took it, crying out daddy every few seconds to keep Tony happy. He sunk down onto his elbows as Tony pushed into him, bottoming out immediately. He felt tears running down his cheeks as Tony thrusts in and out of him, fast and hard. He slapped Eddie’s ass a couple of times, groaning and pounding into him. Eddie reached in between his legs to get himself off. Tony came first, spilling into the condom with a kind of roaring groan as Eddie cheered him on. 

‘Yes, daddy!’ he breathed. ‘So good, so good, daddy. Yes.’

And, when Tony’s pulled out, he flips Eddie onto his back and replaces Eddie’s tiny hand with his own, getting him off in a few seconds. 

When they were done, Eddie could breathe again. He exhaled deeply, laying on his back on Tony’s rented bed that God knows how many people have fucked on. He felt disgusting. But he felt better.

He left an hour and several drinks later, his need to feel strong hands on him satiated. The tea lights on the stairs were still burning as he opened the door out into the coldness of the night. He lit himself a cigarette.

As he smoked, he contemplated his feelings. The guilt, the self-hatred, the lust. The truth was, it felt good to be fucked like that. Well it hurt like a bitch but it was good hurting. It cleared his mind. Plus, it’s his life and his body. He’ll self-destruct if he wants to.

‘Hey,’ a voice from behind him said. He jumped, nearly dropping his cigarette. 

‘Oh, hi,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. This guy doesn’t look like the type to ask for money. He’s got an expensive looking coat on and Armani glasses. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Uh, maybe,’ the guy says, smiling. Fuck, he’s got a nice smile, Eddie thought. His hair was all messed up, though Eddie was sure his was too, with the way Tony was pulling it. But his this new guy’s hair was like… messed up in a calculated way, black curls, wavey and long, framing his face. He was like… really pretty. Damn. Okay. Eddie recalculated his approach.  
‘What can I do for you?’ Eddie asked, stepping on his cigarette. ‘I’m Eddie.’

‘Richie,’ the guy said, holding out a hand. Eddie took it and Richie smiled as they shook. ‘I’m kind of lost. Please tell me you’re from around here.’

‘Yeah,’ Eddie said. ‘Well, I’ve lived here for a couple of years.’

‘College guy?’ Richie asked.

‘Yeah,’ Eddie said, grinning, ‘NYU pre-med.’

‘Jeez,’ Richie said, smiling back. ‘Way to make me feel dumb.’

‘No, I’m sure you’re a genius,’ Eddie said. ‘Where are you trying to get to?’

‘Um, I’m staying with some friends in midtown.’ 

‘Midtown,’ Eddie said, raising his eyebrows, ‘you are plenty lost, my friend. We are far downtown.’

‘Yeah, I was getting kind of scared,’ Richie said, chuckling. ‘But you don’t look sketchy. Maybe you just fooled me.’

‘Hm, well I guess you’ll find out,’ Eddie said, turning to walk Richie uptown. ‘What are you in the city for?’

‘Oh, well, I’m, I’ve got this thing,’ Richie said, scratching his head. ‘I’m a comedian.’

‘Oh, cool.’

‘Not really,’ Richie said. ‘Um, but, yeah, I’ve got a gig on Saturday.’

‘Where?’

‘Um, thirty rock,’ Richie said quietly. ‘Thirty Rockefeller plaza.’

‘Richie!’ Eddie said, turning around, to look at the man trailing behind him. ‘Are you hosting SNL?’

A shy smile passed over Richie’s face. ‘Yeah. I guess so.’

‘Oh my God, you’re that Trashmouth guy, aren’t you?’ Eddie asked, hitting Richie on the arm.

‘Yeah, that’s me.’

‘Trashmouth Tozier!’ Eddie exclaimed. ‘I knew I recognized you.’

‘I thought you might,’ Richie said. ‘But you didn’t look crazy so I tried my luck.’

‘Oh, I am,’ Eddie said. ‘I’m totally crazy.’

Richie laughed, throwing an arm over Eddie which made him flinch.

‘Sorry,’ Richie said, pulling his arm back quickly, ‘I.. uh, sorry, I’m just a touchy feely guy, I guess.’

‘Sorry, no, my bad, I’m sorry,’ Eddie said. ‘Just startled me.’

Richie said nothing, just narrowed his eyes in concern. ‘You cold?’

‘No,’ Eddie said, smiling as Richie opened his leather jacket in offering. ‘I’m fine, but thanks, Trashmouth.’

‘No problem, Eds,’ Richie said, smiling crookedly. 

‘That’s you,’ Eddie said, nodding up at the apartment building Richie had given him the address for. 

‘Great,’ Richie said, turning to look Eddie in the face. ‘You’re an angel, Eds. Come upstairs for a drink, will you?’

‘Um… yeah, sure,’ Eddie said, because why not? Richie’s a fucking celebrity and he’s gorgeous. He follows Richie in through the lobby of the fancy building. 

‘Mr. Tozier,’ the bellhop said, graciously. Eddie was impressed. Richie just smiled and lead Eddie to the elevator.

‘I love Bev’s apartment,’ Richie said, and Eddie’s throat tightened momentarily. Who the fuck is Bev? Maybe he was still a little bit drunk. 

‘Here we go,’ Richie said, stepping out of the elevator. Eddie followed behind him, totally not noticing how good Richie’s ass looked in his skinny jeans. It took Eddie a moment to notice that Richie had stopped walking in front of a door. He knocked rhythmically, and after a second, a glowingly beautiful redhead came hurling towards them. 

‘Trashmouth!’ the girl, who had to be Bev, squealed. They didn’t seem to care about the late hour or the thinness of the walls. Eddie stood back awkwardly. ‘I fucking missed you, asshole!’ Bev said, jumping into Richie’s arms and hugging him like a monkey. Eddie’s jaw tightened as he watched Bev wrap her legs around his waist.

‘Gimmie a kiss, Marsh,’ Richie said, hugging her back. Oh. Okay. Eddie could deal with this; Richie had a super-hot girlfriend, that made sense. He tried to look away, but failed, as Bev planted a dramatic smooch right on Richie’s lips. But then, things complicated.

‘It’s Marsh-Hanscomb now, Trashmouth, you were at my wedding, don’t you remember?’

Richie set Bev down, laughing along with her. ‘I was best man at your wedding! Of course I remember! Oh my God, so Bev, this little cutie is Eddie, and he helped me find my way here!’

‘God, you’ve been living in Vegas for too long, Richie,’ Bev said. ‘Can’t believe you got lost in a grid system.’

‘Well, good thing I had Eds,’ Richie said. ‘I invited him up, hope Benny won’t mind.’

‘Of course he won’t!’ Bev said. ‘Come on in, Eddie!’

Eddie smiled, following Bev inside the apartment which was stupid nice. Full of real wood trimming and leather furniture. 

‘Ben!’ Bev cried. ‘We’ve got guests!’

Wait, Eddie could figure this out, so, Beverly was married, presumably to Ben, but not to Richie, but she kissed Richie, so that meant that Richie was nonthreatening. Which could only mean one thing. Eddie’s dick-brain was screaming GAY! HE’S GOT TO BE GAY, IT’S THE ONLY POSSIBLE EXPLINATION, STICK YOUR COCK IN HIS MOUTH. Eddie tried his best to push those thoughts away. 

‘I wouldn’t necessarily call Trashmouth a guest, more like a-‘ the shockingly attractive man standing in the doorway stopped talking when he saw Eddie. He drew his bathrobe closed around him, covering a toned chest and white boxers. ‘Hi there,’ he said, ‘um, excuse my appearance, I didn’t realize we had guests over. Sorry, you know, guests who aren’t Richie.’

‘Always a pleasure, Haystack,’ Richie said, striding over to pull the guy (Haystack? Hanscomb?) into a big hug. ‘Jesus, Ben, why do you get hotter every time I see you?’

Ben, the man, blushed and chuckled, but Beverly snorted, handing Richie a beer, keeping one for herself, and giving Ben a La Croix. 

‘What’s your drink, Eds?’ Richie asked, sipping his beer.

‘Oh, um, just vodka if you have it.’

‘Crap,’ Bev said, ‘I’ll have to check. I don’t drink as much as I used to. Do you want it, you know, in something? Or just straight?’

Eddie caught her glancing at Richie with a concerned look on her face. Like, who is this alcoholic stranger you have brought into my very nice midtown apartment?

‘I’ll have a beer,’ Eddie said, and Bev smiled, perhaps in relief, grabbing Eddie a bottle. 

‘Bev used to toss vodka shots back in college,’ Richie said, smiling at her mischievously. 

‘Oh I used to toss vodka back?’ Bev said, sipping her beer. ‘Richie would do this thing at every party-‘

‘Oh my God, stop!’ Richie said. Ben and Bev burst into laughter.

‘He knows what I’m about to say!’ Bev said, pointing at Richie through her laugher. ‘Yeah, at college parties, he would stand up in front of everybody and do like ten blowjob shots in a row.’

Richie screamed in laugher, taking a swig from his beer. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘And then I would rail whatever twink bought them for me.’

‘Oh, beep beep, Richie!” Ben said, waving his hand in front of his face as if to fan Richie away from him.

Beverly sighed, her laughter slowing down. ‘God, I missed you Trashmouth.’

‘Missed you too, Red,’ he said, putting an arm around Beverly. Eddie smiled at the two of them, how comfortable they were together. He tried really hard not to focus on the other thing.  
He really hadn’t thought Richie was actually going to offhandedly admit to fucking guys. It was humiliating, wasn’t it? Eddie wouldn’t admit it with a gun to his head. And Richie was just… okay with it? He wasn’t out publicly, as far as Eddie knew, but here he was, railing twinks. Eddie needed to get out of there. He needed to just… go home and think about medical school shit. Cadavers and bowel perforations. Not about how he was failing said medical school, about how one day he would be a doctor, fishing things out of people’s asses… that isn’t sexy, is it? God, what was Eddie doing here? With these hot, happy people.

‘Um, thanks for the beer,’ Eddie said. ‘But I should be getting home.’

‘Yeah?’ Bev said, looking away from Richie to look at him. ‘We didn’t scare you off, did we?’

‘No, no of course not,’ Eddie said. ‘But I’ve got class in the morning.’

Richie narrowed his eyes. ‘What time in the morning?’

‘Eight,’ Eddie said, smirking.

‘Jeez,’ Ben said. ‘I never took morning classes when I was in college. I would fall asleep on my desk. We can’t all be morning people like this one here.’ He pointed at Bev.  
Eddie eyed the clock. It was passed one. If he left now and got home by half past, showered, and went to bed then, he’d be able to get four or five hours of sleep if he woke up in enough time to get some homework done. Eddie had almost forgotten about the shower he’d been planning since Tony tapped him on the shoulder. He needed to get clean. Needed to scrub his skin until it turned pink. He needed to Listerine the shit out of his mouth and then maybe, maybe he could fall asleep. God, he felt like the germs were seeping into him. He needed to get home.  
Eddie laughed politely. ‘Thanks again, for the drinks.’

‘Eds,’ Richie said, smiling winningly and hopping over to Eddie, ‘my knight in shining armor, um, can I invite you to the show Saturday?’  
‘Um, I don’t know, can you do that?’ Eddie asked, giggling. 

‘Of course I can. I’ll get you tickets. Do you want to bring someone? Do you… are you dating anyone?’

Eddie blinked at him for a second, not believing his ears. ‘No, I’m, I’m not. I could bring a friend.’

Richie’s face split into a grin. ‘Brilliant,’ he said. ‘Right, so, give me your number and I’ll text you the details.’

‘Sure,’ Eddie said, tying his number into Richie’s phone and handing it back. 

‘Hold on,’ Richie said, ‘smile, I need a contact photo.’

Eddie smiled stupidly as Richie clicked a picture.

‘See ya, Eddie Spaghetti,’ Richie said. Eddie laughed at the nickname. 

‘Bye, Eddie!’ Bev called, and Ben echoed her. Eddie smiled like an idiot as he walked to the elevator. 

When he got back to the apartment, Eddie opened his phone and clapped his hand over his mouth.

@bitchie.richie mentioned you in their story.

Eddie opened the Instagram app and saw a picture of his face reflected on the story of Richie Tozier, verified, with 2.4 million followers. Eddie could’ve died. He looked terrible in the photo, like an idiot, and the caption was worse. ‘Hello NYC! Are all the guys here this cute?’

Fuck. Eddie’s heart leapt up into his throat. He threw the phone down onto his bed and walked into the shower, turning it on hot and standing underneath the fiery water for as long as he could stand it. Then, he turned it down, trying to calm himself and breathe under the stream of water. He took the loofa down and started scrubbing methodically with shower gel. His legs and ass were desperately sore as he ran the loofa over the skin there. He gasped sharply as the soap soaked into some of the more painful places.

Whatever happened, he told himself, he would be alright. Unless everyone found out he was… like Bill and Stan. And Neil Patrick Harris. Then… fuck. He didn’t know what he’d do. He needed a fucking drink.


	2. Hot Cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie has a bad day at med school, but Mike cheers him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so glad I finally had time to update this story! Writing it today was so cathartic for me, because I've been so stressed out and facing writer's block and slipping into this familiar world is just such a relief. I hope you like it! Chapter three will be posted soon!

CHAPTER TWO  
Eddie’s worst nightmare came true at the ungodly hour of eight AM the next morning.  
‘Eddie!’ a girl named Cassie said, grabbing his arm and pulling him over to the little coven her and her friends formed in the corner of the classroom.  
He was hungover and pissed off, but unfortunately, he hadn’t had enough to drink last night to forget any of it. Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier, the patron saint of Netflix comedy specials, inviting him to Saturday Night Live and taking that dumb picture of him smiling like an idiot.  
‘Hi, Cassie,’ he said, hoping that if he whispered she would get the hint and STOP SHOUTING AT HIM.  
‘Um, I have a question,’ she said, smiling evilly, Eddie thought.  
‘If it’s about the homework, I didn’t do it. I slept in by accident.’  
‘Yeah, I bet you did,’ another one of the girls said. What was that supposed to mean? He swallowed a lump in his throat.  
‘What?’  
‘Is this you?’ Cassie asked, holding her phone up to show Eddie his own face mirrored back on her cell phone. @bitchie.richie Hello NYC! Are all the guys here this cute?  
Eddie hesitated, pretending he was seeing it for the first time. ‘No,’ he said, after a second, not even convincing himself.  
‘It looks like you,’ Cassie said. ‘Were you with Richie Tozier last night?’  
Okay, Eddie thought. Richie Tozier, famous gay comedian, and Eddie Kaspbrack, famously anonymous med school student. He could handle this.  
‘You know, um, I was kind of drunk last night, so maybe… I don’t know, maybe I ran into him? I don’t really remember.’  
‘You were blackout drunk on a Thursday night?’  
‘Yeah,’ Eddie said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. ‘You know what they say about Thursday, it’s uh, it’s the new Friday.’  
Cassie raised an eyebrow at him. ‘We’re operating today, you know. On cadavers.’  
‘Doesn’t really matter if I kill them, then, does it?’ Eddie said, going for a joke but seeing the horror on Cassie’s face and quickly adding, ‘I’m kidding. Yeah, I know, I’ll be fine.’  
Cassie eyed him suspiciously, but he just took a his seat and pulled the homework out, furiously scribbling at questions he already knew the answers to.  
1\. What area of the body does De Quervain's tenosynovitis affect?  
He thought about writing ‘the dick’ but, thought the better of it. He actually needed to pass this intro to orthopedics class if he ever wants to be called Dr. Kaspbrack.  
He was trying to get down answers, but he couldn’t stop think about Tozier. The way he offered up his leather jacket, called Eddie his knight in shining armor. Why had he even been so nice to Eddie? If he’d known what kind of a club Eddie had just walked out of, he never would’ve spoken to him, much less invited him up for drinks. He needed a cigarette but stupid Dr. Diaz was already at the front of the class, powering up the smart board.  
‘Hairline fractures!’ Dr. Diaz announced to the class. ‘Tough to spot on an x-ray, tougher to heal. Who can tell me the two most common locations of hairline fractures?’  
The answer popped into Eddie’s head immediately: the tibia and calcaneus, making up seventy-five percent of hairline fractures, typically seen on long distance runners, specifically those with an inadequate caloric intake.  
He listened to Cassie answer, giving the correct bones, and pretended to write it down, drawing a daisy in the margin of his notebook.  
\---  
That afternoon, they were meant to be doing a de quervain's release on a dead person’s wrist; it always made Eddie a bit queasy to see an amputated arm laying in front of him on the table. He picked up his scalpel and pursed his lips, stealing himself to make the two and one quarter inch incision on the tendon of his patient (dead person).  
‘I hate this shit,’ the guy next to him said. Eddie hummed in agreement, marking out the location of the patient (dead person’s) pain on the wrist.  
Eddie picked up the scalpel and cuts deftly above the tendon, pinning the skin open on either side and mumbling to himself ‘four centimeter release.’  
‘Four centimeters?’ the guy next to him asked.  
‘Yeah,’ Eddie said, ‘enough to prevent further injury to the area. Right?’  
‘I thought it was two.’  
Eddie turned to him, holding the scalpel in a white knuckled hand. ‘Why would it be two?’  
‘To maintain full mobility in the tendon.’  
‘Fuck,’ Eddie muttered under his breath. ‘Are you sure?’  
‘Yeah,’ the guy said, cutting into his cadaver.  
Eddie blinked at the hand laid out in front of him. Two centimeters would make sense, wouldn’t it? But at the same time, he could’ve sworn it was four. But his mind was fucked up anyway. He sliced in two centimeters and started stitching the incision up with a fury, tying off stiches like it was a race.  
He really needed a cigarette. Badly.  
The bell rang a while later and Eddie grabbed up his bag, preparing to walk out when Dr. Diaz called his name. ‘Kaspbrack!’  
Eddie swore under his breath, putting on a smile and approaching Dr. Diaz’s desk.  
‘Bad news, Eddie.’  
‘What’s that?’ Eddie asked, fear welling up in his chest.  
Dr. Diaz pointed to Eddie’s cadaver, ‘You’re being sued for malpractice and your patient is never going to use her dominant hand again. What the hell happened with this incision, Eddie? There’s barely room to work in here.’  
‘Sorry,’ Eddie blurted out. ‘I, well, I was going to do a four centimeter incision but Brad said it was two.’  
‘Why would you listen to Brad, Eddie? Brad’s not going to be there in the OR with you if you ever get your doctorate.’  
If. He said if. Fuck.  
‘I just, I was confused about it, I wasn’t sure.’  
‘Eddie, you need to be sure,’ Dr. Diaz said. ‘You always need to be sure of things, that’s what being a doctor is. You can’t doubt yourself, even for a second.’  
‘I know. I’m sorry.’  
‘It doesn’t matter if you’re sorry. You need to start working harder. You need to start turning in your homework and paying attention in class. Not gossiping with the girls before class. You’re supposed to be the best, Eddie, your test scores don’t lie. But you never answer questions in class, you don’t turn assignments in, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.’  
‘I haven’t,’ Eddie said, before he could stop himself. ‘Sorry. I’m really sorry, I know I’m struggling, I just… this is my dream, I want this more than anything.’  
‘I know it is,’ Dr. Diaz said. ‘But it doesn’t show in your classwork. So go home, take a nap, and then get to studying. I know you have it in you; you’re a smart kid.’  
‘Thanks,’ Eddie said. He was just doomed to one embarrassment after another wasn’t he? He shouldered his bag and walked out of the classroom, hoping that no one could see the agonizing shame burning on his face.  
He walked across the courtyard to the coffee shop that he usually met Stan at for lunch, and when he got there, he sighed heavily, puffing his cheeks out, because Stan and Bill were sitting at the table with their arms crossed like disappointed parents.  
‘Hi guys,’ Eddie said, sitting down and crossing his own arms because he’d had enough bullshit for one day and whatever they were going to say, he wasn’t going to listen.  
‘Hi, Eddie,’ Stan said, sounding like he was making a real effort to be nice.  
‘Are you kicking me out?’ Eddie asked.  
‘What?’ Stan said. ‘Of course I’m not kicking you out, why would you think that?’  
‘I figured you wanted more space. You know, with Bill.’  
Stan cast a glance towards his boyfriend. Bill shrugged as if to say, you tell him. Eddie steeled himself for whatever they were trying to tell him.  
‘Eddie,’ Stan said, clearing his throat. ‘We, well, we’ve just been wondering, you know. If you’re… okay?’  
‘What the fuck does that mean?’  
‘Where do you go?’ Bill asked. ‘I mean, all night, every night, where are you off to? Why don’t you sleep?’  
Eddie clenched his jaw. ‘Why does it matter?’  
‘Because it’s weird,’ Stan said. ‘It’s weird that you just disappear all night and then act like nothing happened in the morning. Are you like, prostituting yourself to pay for medical school?’  
‘No, I’m not prostituting myself to pay for medical school,’ Eddie snapped. ‘I just like to walk around at night.’  
‘Well, that’s bullshit,’ Bill said, leaning back his chair.  
‘Bill,’ Stan warned in a soft voice, putting his hand on Bill’s knee. Eddie wanted to scream at them to be careful with the touching before someone realized they were fucking faggots and killed all three of them. They were so caviler with it. Why couldn’t they keep it private? It wasn’t something someone should do in public, was it? Eddie felt anxiety welling up in his stomach.  
‘You know, I’m really not having a very good day,’ Eddie said. ‘And I don’t appreciate this ambush.  
‘It’s not an ambush,’ Stan said, reaching across the table to lay his free hand over Eddie’s. Eddie pulled his hand back subconsciously and immediately felt bad about it. ‘We just care about you. And, if there’s something going on, I feel like, as your best friend, I have a right to worry about it. You would be at the top of your class if you just got a little bit more sleep, you know? And put a bit more time into studying.’  
‘Yeah, alright!’ Eddie snapped, ‘I know I’m failing! And I know it’s my own fucking fault! I don’t need everyone to remind me about it all the fucking time! Jesus, I’m just trying my best here!’  
‘Eddie,’ Bill said, his voice infuriatingly calm.  
The tension was broken by a mug being placed down in front of Eddie. He looked up to see a barista smiling at him with a glowing optimism that made Eddie’s head hurt with its enthusiasm.  
‘I didn’t order anything,’ Eddie said to ‘Mike,’ the guy who’d given him the mug.  
‘Oh, I know,’ Mike said. ‘But, uh, you seem upset. Hot chocolate always makes me feel better on a bad day. Thought maybe you could use some.’  
Eddie looked up at him, smiling like making Eddie happier is his only mission in life, and, honestly, Eddie couldn’t remember the last time someone did something this nice for him. The hot chocolate smells really good, and before Eddie can get it under control, he feels a tear rolling down on his cheak.  
‘Thank you so much,’ he said to Mike, through a sudden onslaught of unstoppable tears. ‘I’m sorry, I just,’ he hiccupped, ‘I’ve just been having a really bad day, and I really needed this.’  
‘Anytime,’ Mike said, smiling with a heart wrenching level of understanding. ‘I’m Mike by the way.’  
‘Eddie. And this is, Stan and Bill.’  
The couple each shook Mike’s hand while Eddie tried to get his emotions under control.  
‘Do you want to sit?’ Bill asked, gesturing to the empty chair.  
‘Sure,’ Mike said, shrugging, and then hollered, ‘Dani! I’m taking my break!’  
‘I’m timing you, Hanlon!’ someone who must be Dani shouted from the back.  
Mike winced, ‘Yeah, I’m not her favorite employee.’  
Bill smirked. ‘Yeah, I could tell.’  
‘Do you want to talk about it, Eddie?’ Stan asked, successfully laying his hand on top of Eddie’s this time.  
‘I’m just tired, I think,’ Eddie said, looking up at three faces, none of which were at all convinced at his lie. ‘I got yelled at today,’ he said, laughing. ‘I made a stupid mistake in class and got my ass handed to me.’  
‘What are you in school for?’ Mike asked. Eddie took a sip of the hot chocolate and nearly moaned at how delicious it was.  
‘I want to be a pediatrician,’ he said, wiping the chocolate from his upper lip. ‘I, uh, had a bad time as a kid, I want to help others, I guess.’  
‘That’s awesome,’ Mike said. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see Stan feeding Bill a danish which was cute but also disgusting.  
‘No, it’s not,’ Eddie said, ‘I’m fucking failing. I’m going to wind up buried in debt working at a CVS for the rest of my life.’  
‘Oh, come on, Eddie,’ Stan said. ‘You’re a genius. And really brilliant at studying, so, stop shitting on yourself.’  
‘I just don’t think I can handle medical school,’ Eddie said miserably. ‘Sorry, Mike, I bet you weren’t expecting this much oversharing.’  
‘It’s fine,’ Mike said. ‘It’s, uh, you know, nice to have people to talk to.’  
‘Yeah,’ Stan said, in agreement. Bill was gazing at him like Stan was the most beautiful thing in the world. It kind of made Eddie’s chest hurt, to see how happy they were. How much they loved each other.  
‘You’ll be fine, Eddie,’ Bill said, resting his head on Stan’s shoulder. ‘Just use Saturday to catch up on your sleep, and we’ll help you study Sunday. You’ll be fine. You’re just in a rut. And, stop spending your nights strolling the streets of New York like a beat poet. Going, wherever it is you disappear to.’  
‘I’m actually busy this Saturday,’ Eddie said, grimacing at the idea of his so called plans.  
‘What are you doing?’ Stan asked skeptically.  
‘I have tickets to something.’  
‘Tickets to what.’  
Eddie sighed, ‘Do any of you know who Richie Tozier is?’  
‘Oh my God, he’s hilarious,’ Bill said, breaking into a smile, ‘he’s the only comedian I can tolerate; I’ve seen all his Netflix specials, I think the radio city one is my favorite though. He’s hosting SNL this week, you know.’  
‘Yeah, I know,’ Eddie said. ‘I kind of… have tickets. To the SNL show.’  
‘You’re shitting me,’ Bill said.  
‘Not shitting you. I, uh, he said I could invite a friend so, you can come if you want.’  
‘You met him!?’ Bill exclaimed.  
‘Yeah.’  
‘What did he smell like?’ Bill asked, leaning in.  
‘Um, he smelled like beer.’  
‘What did he say? Does he actually wear those glasses all the time?’  
‘I don’t know, he was nice. He had the glasses on.’  
‘Okay, he’s not even that funny,’ Stan said, rolling his eyes.  
‘Don’t be jealous, darling,’ Bill said, leaning up to kiss Stan on the cheek. ‘You’re cuter and smarter and nicer than Richie Tozier will ever be.’  
‘So do you not want to come to SNL?’ Eddie asked.  
‘No, no, I still want to come,’ Bill said, pecking Stan on the cheek again. ‘Can I bring my date?’  
Mike chuckled. ‘You guys are a cute couple.’  
Bill smiled at Stan, starry eyed and smiling, ‘Thanks,’ he said.  
Eddie couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to sit next to someone like that and just feel perfectly content with their arm around you. He felt creepy for thinking about it, but he couldn’t help but compare his sexual experiences with what Bill and Stan’s must be like. He wondered who bottomed, or if they took turns. He could just imagine Bill leaning down to kiss Stan as they moved together, looking into each other’s eyes and whispering declarations of love to each other. It was probably sweet and soft between them. Mutual and balanced. Eddie would sometimes ask himself if he actually liked it rough, or if he just couldn’t stand the idea of letting someone get close enough to him to figure out what he actually enjoyed in bed.  
His phone buzzed and snapped him out of his thoughts.  
‘Who is it?’ Stan asked.  
‘I don’t know,’ Eddie said. ‘Weird area code.’  
‘Don’t even answer,’ Bill said. ‘That’s how they get you.’  
‘Who does?’  
‘The telemarketers,’ Bill said, as though it was glaringly obvious.  
‘Hold on,’ Eddie said, getting up, he stopped in front of Mike. ‘Mike, thank you so much. Seriously. You’re an angel. Uh, why don’t you give your info to Bill and we can all hang out again soon.’  
Mike smiled back at him, nodding enthusiastically, and Eddie wondered if he had any other friends. If not, he was with them now.  
Eddie hurried out the door and picked up the phone. ‘Eddie Kaspbrack speaking.’  
‘Yeah, this is Jim’s whorehouse, you got the dough, we got the hoe, Jim speaking, how can I help you today?’  
‘What?’ Eddie squeaked. He’d always hated prank calls.  
‘It’s Richie!’ the voice on the other end of the phone said.  
‘Oh,’ Eddie said. Speak of the devil. ‘What’s up?’  
‘I’m in dress rehearsal, I just wanted to see how many people you’re bringing tomorrow so I can set your tickets aside.’  
‘Oh,” Eddie said again. ‘Well, I don’t know, my friend Bill is like obsessed with you so I figured I’d bring him.’  
‘Ooo, is he hot?’  
‘He’s taken,’ Eddie said, smirking.  
‘Oh, well then tell him to bring his date! I mean, bring as many people as you want, honestly. I, uh, don’t have a lot of friends so, you know. Whoever you want.’  
‘Okay,’ Eddie said. ‘I’ll, well, I mean, I don’t have a lot of friends either, so it’ll probably just be me third wheeling.’  
‘Just don’t bring a date,’ Richie said, and Eddie could hear his smirk through the phone. ‘It’ll break my heart.’  
Eddie scoffed, ‘Yeah, don’t worry about that.’  
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’  
‘Um, nothing, I’m just… I don’t date much.’  
‘Hm,’ Richie said. ‘Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Your tickets are under my name in the box office.’  
‘Thanks,’ Eddie said, and he could hear Richie blow a kiss into the phone before he hung up.  
‘Guys,’ Eddie said as he walked back over to the coffee shop table they were sitting around. ‘You’re all invited to SNL! Courtesy of Richie Tozier himself.  
There were exclamations of gratitude from each of them, but the one that really got to Eddie was Stan’s deadpan statement of: ‘So did you fuck him yet or are you planning to do it after the show?’

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Give some kudos or a comment if you'd like to! I worked on this all day instead of doing school work or writing my own novel so... good for me. I hope it entertained you. More to come.


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